by Joan Holub
Iris stood out in the hall and watched through the vertical pane of glass in the door as Medusa sat down. The snake-haired girl immediately whispered something to the violet-eyed Dionysus, then slipped the notescroll from her pocket and passed it to him. Being careful to make sure Mr. Cyclops wouldn’t notice, Dionysus passed the notescroll to Eros, who passed it to another student, and so on across the classroom.
In a matter of seconds it was in Antheia’s possession. She ducked down so the teacher wouldn’t see and opened it. When she realized it was the crush notescroll she’d requested, she glanced around until she spied Iris through the glass pane. Smiling gratefully, Antheia gave her a thumbs-up. Iris waved and grinned back. Then she headed off before the teacher could see her, her good deed done.
Feeling pleased with herself, she let her winged sandals carry her to the front doors of the Academy. She might not have followed through with writing that crush note if Zephyr hadn’t acted the way he had out in the courtyard, so maybe it was a good thing he had! By writing the note for Antheia, she hoped she’d put any feelings she had for that boy behind her once and for all.
She pushed out through the front doors. Then she was off, speeding past the four windy boys on her way to the Underworld. She didn’t even look their way!
As Iris took to the air, she practiced her rainbows, trying to take her mind off the scary nature of what she was about to do. Each rainbow she made arced farther than the previous one and with better aim. She was improving for sure. Maybe by the time she got back to the Academy, her skills would be honed enough to prove her worthiness as goddessgirl of rainbows. Delivering the pitcher to Zeus would put him in a good mood, so the timing would be perfect!
Now and then as she traveled, she checked Persephone’s map to make sure she was going the right way. All too soon she landed on the riverbank. Just like Persephone had described, there was a waterfall that plunged down a rocky cliff high above her and into a deep gorge, where it became the dismal, murky River Styx that rushed past the bank where she stood. This had to be the place. But where was the Goddess Styx’s house?
Squinting at the side of the cliff for a while, Iris finally spotted something under the waterfall. A room-size ledge. A table and other furniture sat on it, and dug into the side of the cliff behind it were shelves and a hearth. It was all completely open to the outside.
She gazed down into the ooky muddy gray water below, more than a little worried. It was a long way up to that cliff house, higher than she was used to flying in her sandals. Should she try traveling by rainbow? Could she make one sturdy enough to hold her weight? If it wobbled and failed her, she’d fall, and something lurking in this water might do her in. Crocodiles. Or some kind of wild, watery beast. She shuddered at the thought.
No, she didn’t feel quite brave enough to chance it with a rainbow. Not yet. Still, she hadn’t come all this way just to give up. Before she could change her mind, she leaned forward and let her winged sandals whoosh her upward and across the gorge. She ducked under the waterfall to land on the high ledge on the far side. There, she wrapped the laces of her sandals around the silver wings to keep them still so she could walk normally.
There was a fire burning in the hearth, but Iris didn’t see anyone around. She called out anyway just to be sure. “Hello? Goddess Styx?”
There was no answer, so she looked around, hoping to spot the pitcher herself. In every nook and cranny of the cliff wall, there were keepsakes. Three tiny blue salamander eggs had been tucked into one nook. A bundle of birch twigs tied with string had been tucked into another. A jar of iridescent fish scales sat on a shelf, along with other oddball items she didn’t wish to examine too carefully.
The mantel above the hearth was stacked full of framed Greekly Weekly News clippings. Many were stories about the Olympic Games that were held at MOA every four years. Squinting, Iris stared at some of the pictures—Otus and Ephialtes. Two Titan boys! She remembered they’d come to the Academy for the Boys’ Olympics a while back and had caused a ton of trouble. But then she noticed some pro-Olympian stuff too. A drawing of Apollo receiving a target-shooting award, and Ares getting a javelin-throwing one.
Iris’s mind boggled. There was a long history of distrust between Olympian gods and the Titans, dating back to that long-ago war between them that Zephyr had mentioned. So who had the Goddess actually favored? Not sure she wanted to find out, Iris started to back away.
As she turned to go, there, sitting right on a table made out of a tree stump was . . . a pitcher! She’d been so busy checking out the items in the nooks and crannies in the cliff wall that she’d missed seeing the very object she’s come here for. It was teal colored with a stopper in the top. Since there were no other pitchers around, this surely had to be the one Zeus desired.
Growing excited, Iris whipped out her pens. She was about to write a quick note to the goddess explaining that she’d borrowed the pitcher for Zeus and would return it later, when she thought to look inside it.
Oh no! It was empty. Zeus had said it would contain water. What now? Before she could decide what to do, she heard splashing. She glanced down from the ledge in time to see a whirling dervish spin up and out of the river below. It headed right for her!
In mere seconds it reached the ledge where Iris stood. A gray face with piercing eyes peered out at her from the middle of the dervish as it whirled around and around, dripping water onto her. Startled, Iris stumbled backward against the cliff wall. Was this the Goddess Styx?
8
Pitcher Snatcher
PITCHER SNATCHER!” THE DERVISH ACCUSED when she saw what Iris held. “Nobody steals from the Goddess Styx! Well, what have ye to say for yourself, thief?” She darted close, and Iris jumped away from her. Eek! In her attempt to escape, she’d almost stepped into the fire!
“I’m not a pitcher snatcher. I mean, I wasn’t stealing it. I was going to leave a note,” Iris sputtered. She clutched the pitcher and her bag to her chest, wishing with all her heart that she hadn’t ventured here after all. What had she gotten herself into?
“A likely story! Who are ye and what are ye up to?” demanded Styx, still spinning round and round. What if this goddess decided to toss her into the river below? Or worse yet, into Tartarus? Even immortals could wind up there if they offended more powerful gods and goddesses. Judging by the expression of outrage on Styx’s face, Iris had definitely offended her!
Still clinging to the wall behind her, Iris took a few quick breaths. She needed to be brave, and the bravest goddessgirl she knew was Artemis. So, what would Artemis do in this situation? she wondered. The answer came into her head immediately. Stand up for herself, that’s what!
“I’m Iris, the Goddess of Rainbows,” she announced, straightening. The fib about her being in charge of rainbows slipped out without her intending it to. But she had a feeling Styx wouldn’t let her take the pitcher if she admitted the truth. That although she was an MOA student and an immortal, she wasn’t important enough to be the goddess of anything in particular. “And like I said, I just want to borrow your pitcher. I promise to bring it back. So I’ll just be going . . .” She started sidling away.
The spinning, drippy goddess swooped down and skidded to a stop on the ledge, instantly taking the shape of a woman. A woman made of swirling, swampy, sludgy water with long strands of water-hair floating wildly around her face.
“Not so fast,” she said. She lunged toward Iris, who scrambled away from her. Unfortunately, in her hurry to get away from the river goddess, she came too close to the cliff’s edge. As the goddess caught up to her and yanked the pitcher from her hands, Iris fell right off the ledge!
Nooo! Down, down, down she plummeted. The wind rushed by her ears as she somersaulted head over heels into the gorge. Unable to keep hold of her bag, she dropped it, then watched it plunge into the thick, icky, sludge-gray waves of the river below, lost forever. So much for Ceyx’s letterscroll to Hera. No time to worry about that now. She had to save herself fr
om the same fate.
No time to release her sandals’ wings. She’d have to take a chance. . . .
Brrrng! The familiar sound like the strum of a harp filled the gorge as Iris desperately hurled a ball of magic to the far side of the riverbank below. As color streamed from her fingers, a rainbow arced a dozen feet below her, stretching from the gorge wall down to the opposite bank of the River Styx.
Thump! Iris landed on the rainbow. It was slippery, and she fell halfway off it at once, but somehow she managed to hold on to its edge, gain a foothold, and then swing herself atop the shimmery rainbow.
“What’s going on up there-ere-ere?” shouted a new voice. It was very deep and it echoed, as if it came from deep within a cave.
Heart pounding after her near disaster, Iris kneeled on the rainbow and searched high and low for the source of the voice. Seeing no one, she glanced down toward the safety that waited at the bottom end of the rainbow on the riverbank. She wanted nothing more than to head home to MOA and forget all about this disastrous mission. Turning her head to look the other way, she saw that Styx was just staring at her from the craggy ledge with the pitcher clutched in her hands. Probably hoping Iris would land in the river and get eaten by whoever or whatever had just spoken!
Humph, thought Iris, feeling indignant. “We’ll see about that!” Then before she could change her mind, she gathered every single scrap of courage she possessed and slid up the rainbow to land on the ledge beside Styx again. “I’m back!” she announced.
But instead of acting annoyed, Styx was all twitchy now, looking around as if expecting a boogeyman to jump out at them at any moment.
“What’s going on-on-on?” It was that voice again.
A crack formed in the ledge by Iris’s feet. Eek! She jumped away as the crack widened. The earth split open, and another woman sprang out from it, this one sculpted from mud and rock. She stared Iris in the eye.
Before the rock woman could speak, the Goddess Styx gave her a fake, sarcastic smile. “Gaia! How nice of you to drop by. I haven’t seen you since—”
“The war,” Gaia finished for her, but her attention was on Iris. “So you have a visitor?” she said to Styx. “An Olympian by the stench of her, and by the loook of her glittery skinny skin skin.”
This was Gaia? The Earth goddess? thought Iris. Well, if anyone stank around here, it was Gaia, not her. The goddess smelled like rotting leaves, wormy tree trunks, toadstools, and dank soil. Up close Iris could see that cobwebs, small bones, and bits of moss were tangled in the goddess’s mud-covered hair. Eew!
More than ever, Iris wanted out of there. But she needed that pitcher! If she could’ve seen her own aura right now, she knew it would be more chicken yellow (which was a totally different shade from happy, sunny yellow) than courageous red. Because she was shaking in her sandals.
Gaia walked around her. Iris twisted her head as the Earth goddess circled her. “Olympians are so annoying,” the goddess muttered.
“And Titans aren’t?” scoffed Styx.
“You dare insult my son?” huffed Gaia.
“Typhon’s an idiot. A doofus.”
At that, Iris’s ears perked up, and her eyes widened in alarm. Typhon was Gaia’s son?
“And you think Olympians are sooo smart?” Gaia countered. Her gaze narrowed on Iris. “Let’s test this one then,” she said.
“And just why have you come here, Miss Smarty-pants?” she asked Iris.
Smart? That made Iris think of Athena. If faced with such a question, that brainy goddessgirl would probably answer it directly, but also in a way that made clear what she wanted. That would be the smart thing to do.
“I want the pitcher. And I want it filled with water this time,” Iris replied in a firm tone.
“Well, where’s your hospitality? Fill your pitcher for the girl,” Gaia told Styx. “She’s obviously thirsty.” A look passed between the two goddesses that Iris couldn’t decipher.
“Okay, bossy-pants,” Styx replied to Gaia. Taking the pitcher, she leaped off the ledge. Splash! Into the river she went.
While she was gone, Gaia glanced at Iris, then turned her attention to the mantel and the news clippings upon it. “I too once championed the Olympians, did you know that, little girl? But no more.” One by one she carelessly knocked the framed Olympian news clippings into the fire. Then she straightened the remaining Titan ones, smiling fondly at one in particular.
Craning her neck, Iris read the title: ANOTHER TITAN VICTORY. A closer look enabled her to read a name: T-Y-P-H-O-N. Typhon? Gaia’s son—the monster determined to destroy Zeus—must be a Titan! Which made total sense. Typhon probably had a grudge against Zeus because he’d locked up the beast after the war.
Gaia seemed to forget that Iris was there for a moment, for she murmured, “Ah, my dear son. You’ll make Mama proud soon, won’t you?”
Suddenly Iris put two and two together. Zeus had said someone had released Typhon from Tartarus. It must have been Gaia! Iris needed to get out of here, fast, and let Zeus know!
As if sensing her thoughts, the goddess shot her a look. “If you really want to take that pitcher with you, you’ll have to drink from it first to pass a test. One in which there are consequences for failure.”
Just then, Styx reappeared, having obviously overheard. “Drink up,” she said, handing the pitcher to Iris.
Before she held it to her mouth, Iris peered closely at the pitcher, noticing for the first time the words engraved on it. They blended into an etched pattern, making them difficult to see at first glance. The words were:
Anyone who drinks and lies
Is in for a very unpleasant surprise.
Iris didn’t like the sound of that. Was the pitcher some kind of lie detector? How did Zeus think that would help save the school from Typhon?
“What’s the unpleasant surprise?” she asked, looking between the goddesses.
Gaia let out an evil cackle. “That’s for us to know and you to avoid finding out. Now drink from the pitcher. Then I’ll ask you three questions. If you answer truthfully, all will be well.”
And what if I don’t? Iris wondered. She shook her head. “Eew! I’m sorry, but that river water looked too icky to drink.”
Rolling her eyes, Styx took the pitcher and dribbled water from it onto the floor. Somehow it had become sparkling and pure! Still a bit wary, Iris reclaimed the pitcher, tipped it toward her mouth, and took a swallow of the cold water. It tasted wonderful!
“It’s my pitcher. I’ll ask the first question,” said Styx.
But Gaia, who had stepped closer and begun to circle Iris where she stood, beat the river goddess to the punch. “Are you really from the Academy?” she asked.
“Yes,” Iris answered easily, turning her head to keep track of the goddess. “So this pitcher is some kind of lie detector, right?”
Gaia frowned. “Don’t answer a question with a question if you truly want the pitcher. Now where is Zeus? Rumor has it he’s not on Mount Olympus.”
“I don’t know his exact location right now,” Iris replied quickly. Which was true. She believed him to be at the Gray Ladies’ office. But since she’d never been there herself, she had no idea where that was exactly.
“The next question is mine,” said Styx.
“Hush, fool,” snarked Gaia.
“You hush. It’s my pitcher. I’ll ask the next question,” argued Styx.
“Just try it,” challenged Gaia.
And just like that, the goddesses began to fight. They twirled and twisted around and around each other. Water mixed with earth, and before long they turned into a great big ball of angry, writhing sludge. Talk about eew!
Iris slipped on the sludge as it oozed across the ledge toward her. Yelping, she barely managed to hang on to the pitcher as she found herself falling toward doom once again. Her last rainbow had faded by now. She had no choice but to try her luck again with another one. And this time she was going to need to make a really, really long, huge rainbow�
�one that would whisk her all the way to MOA! With all her might she threw out a new ball of magic. Brrrng!
“Ow! Hey! Not bad!” she murmured encouragingly to herself when she landed upon the new rainbow she’d caused to appear. Indeed, it looked and felt pretty sturdy. And it stretched so far into the distance that she couldn’t see where it ended.
She could still hear the goddesses raging at each other in the gorge behind her. How much time before they noticed she was gone?
Feeling kind of brave after her success in getting the pitcher, she zipped up the bands of colored light and sailed away from the River Styx.
However, when she reached the very top of the arc—about halfway to MOA—her rainbow suddenly gave a hard wobble. Oh no! And then she was falling—for the third time that day! She’d failed at making a travel-worthy rainbow after all. Would those two angry goddesses be waiting for her at the bottom, having finally realized she’d stolen the pitcher while they’d been fighting?
All at once, strong hands grabbed her arm in midair and pulled her upward. She clung to the pitcher with her free hand, refusing to let it fall. Seconds later she was lifted onto a cushion of wind. As she righted herself, she pushed her hair out of her face and found herself staring into a pair of worried blue eyes. Saved! By . . . Zephyr?
“You!” she yelped. Recovering from her surprise, she quickly added a grateful “Thank-you!” Then she asked, “But where did you come from? How did you know where to find—”
“I didn’t,” he interrupted. “But I’m glad I found you. Trouble’s brewing, and I was worried about you. Just look around!”
Iris did. The sky was noticeably darker than it had been even a few minutes before. In fact, the atmosphere all around them had turned a dusky, roiling gray. Maybe the brewing weather was the reason her rainbow had wobbled. The notion gave her hope that another try might prove she could in fact create a sturdy rainbow that would support her travels.
